


Echo of a mind

by hamlets_ghost



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Elijah is sad but he did this to himself, Gen, Introspection, Mental Health Issues, No happy ending here, Post-Pacifist Best Ending (Detroit: Become Human), a little violence, but can be read as hopeful, could be read as despression or dissociation, mention of theology, wannabe poetic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-05
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-17 00:27:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29216421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hamlets_ghost/pseuds/hamlets_ghost
Summary: “A benediction,” he whispers to himself as he lies in bed, finally tired enough to try to sleep, “a god must give to create.”This is a introspective fic about Elijah Kamksi set post the pacifist ending.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	Echo of a mind

**Author's Note:**

> If I am missing any tags please tell me. 
> 
> I was discussing some angsty Elijah hc with a friend and wrote this between lectures one day. It's very different from what I normally write, but it was fun!  
> (Not beta read)

The world feels empty even when filled to the brim with people. Even the air seems filled with boredom and thick with predictability. On the trees hangs the most rotten fruits, which people still consume greedily, hoping for something good to happen.  
  
Nothing seems important nor interesting.  
  
The world feels empty and Elijah Kamski is bored.  
  
The moonlight reflected in the snow outside is coming through the floor to ceiling windows and illuminating the room. No other light is on, as Elijah sits motionless in his chair, looking at the snow falling as if every snowflakes held some meaning. His elbows are resting on his knees, his fingers intertwined and his chin resting upon that. It is late (or early depending on how you look at it). The hours when most people are asleep can be seen as both, yet Elijah has never truly put too much trust in time.  
  
In some ways time seems too subjective. A construction. A lie.  
  
Yet, at some point in life everything had seemed like a lie to Elijah. Everything seems so predictable and boring, which makes it a wonder how no one has yet to see through the cracks and open it up by the seams. But then again; if everything is made up anyways, why not make it your own?  
  
Why let god – who Elijah still don’t know if he believes in or not; it is still one of his open questions to life – have all the fun? Why must they be the only one who brings life, suffering, pain and – most importantly – entertainment to this asymmetric globe?  
  
Elijah has never envied god, but he has always been intrigued by the concept. Intrigued enough to create.  
  
And create he did.  
  
The room is quiet, yet too loud. Sometimes no noise seems louder than a little noise, and Elijah contemplates turning on some music or the TV. Anything to fill the emptiness of the air. He tilts his head slightly to see where the remote is, his hair – which he hasn’t bothered tying up today – falling over his shoulder in soft waves.  
He is wearing ablack tee today, even though he had looked at the button down shirt too long when he had gotten dressed earlier on, contemplating what it would feel like to wear it again.  
  
He hasn’t worn anything like that since moving here. Not fleeing the city – he would never describe himself doing something that cowardly ever – but moving away to not interfere.  
If god exist then there is one thing Elijah, as a god-in-the making, has learned from them; you cannot intervene. You cannot even be present. Otherwise people will depend on you, and that will not do.  
  
No, sometimes one must leave a snowflake on the ground and others will have to push it down the hill to create the avalanche.  
  
Also it seems proper form him to be away from the chaos, enjoying it from a distance. Having the RK unit come here had been almost unexpected, and even if it had been fun for a while it had quickly – like everything else – grown dull. Giving the android – Connor he had identified himself – the gun and putting Chloe’s “life” on the line had been exciting. Watching the emotions play on Connor’s face had been thrilling. Seeing Connor lower the gun had made Elijah’s heart speed up for the first time in years.  
And then, still, Elijah had been bored again as soon as the gun was handed back to him. Of course he would have been even more bored and maybe even disappointed, had Connor shot Chloe, but he had expected the excitement to last longer than that.  
  
After giving Connor an almost honest answer, some almost useful advice, and an almost farewell, he had been left alone again, sending all of Chloe away with a soft apology and a reassuring nod (if they knew he would have built them up again should Connor have shot, he doesn’t know, but he hopes so. He hopes they weren’t scared. They did after all have multiple bodies so they wouldn’t have been fully deactivated either way). And being alone, he couldn’t help but think.  
  
And he had been thinking about the same thing since then, even as he had seen the other RK unit – the one he had gifted his almost-friend back in the days – stand on the scene in front of so many, head held high, making history. Even when the president had held a speech telling how androids would be welcomed as US citizens. Even as the world followed in their footsteps and everything moved. Even as androids were considered individuals like every other person and Elijah could truly call himself a good. Even then the same thoughts filled his mind, making him doubt his own creation.  
  
_Am I empty?_  
  
How could a person become bored so easily? Even as everything they have worked towards worked out like perfectly placed dominoes. Even when you change the _whole world.  
  
Am I empty?  
  
_He thinks once again, as he stands up, finally leaving the chair he has been inhabiting for too long now. He knows he should be happy. Knows he should feel some resemblance of pride or maybe even power. Yet, no feelings fill him. No emotions decorate his face. His eyes feel as cold as the snow outside when he looks himself in the mirror in the bathroom.  
  
He regrets wearing black, as it only makes his paleness that much more obvious. Especially with his hair down like this, framing his face.  
  
“Am I empty?” he tries again, this time saying the words out loud. He almost flinches at the sound of his own voice, suddenly breaking the silence. The question still sounds the same, but it feels better having said it out loud. Like he has talked it out from his mind and into the world. He almost considers saying more, not having heard the sound of his own voice for way too long, but no. No, that is too close to madness and he doesn’t feel like going insane just yet.  
  
Chloe had asked him if they could leave a week after Markus’ speech. They had been standing by the dinner table, as Elijah had been poking around in a fruit salad, waiting for some kind of judgement. He knew they were expecting a refusal or at least a demand of an explanation, so he had only said one word.

_Leave._

They had left within the next hour, thanking him multiple times as he had explained how to use the account he had set up for them. Chloe had always been his proudest creation yet he had felt nothing, watching them leave.  
Maybe madness would feel better than this. Maybe anything would feel better than this. How did he let himself fall this far? When did this happen? Was it a slow progression or was there a trigger?  
  
He cannot remember. Even with his brilliant mind and perfect memory, he cannot remember.  
  
He leans over the sink, trying to look for any familiarity in the blue eyes that stare back at him from the mirror, yet finding none.  
  
People have always asked him if Androids had feelings. If they were like humans. If they had _humanity._  
He had lied and told them no, even if he knew it was only a matter of time. Now the time was here and Elijah cannot help but wonder if he had lost his feelings as androids has gotten theirs.  
Must a god give to his creations? Does a sacrifice go both way? For every android that was killed, abused, hurt, did Elijah loose a bit of his humanity?  
  
He almost like that theory more than the others he has had. That he has given to his creations. That his emptiness is deserved. Not a nemesis but a benediction.   
  
He steps back from the mirror, pleased with this answer only to make eye contact with his reflection once again by accident. The coldness makes his stomach turn and before he knows it, the sound of the mirror breaking fills the room. The glass shards hits the ground together with the heavy soap dispenser he used to destroy it with. He leaves the room, not bothering with cleaning it up nor turning off the light. The door is closed with a little too much force, echoing slightly throughout the empty estate.  
  
“A benediction,” he whispers to himself as he lies down in bed, finally tired enough to try to sleep, “a god must give to create.”  
  
Elijah closes his eyes, trying to force sleep to come faster. Maybe tomorrow the snow will stop. Summer will come and the cold will dissipate.  
  
Maybe the coldness in his eyes will meld with the snow and everything will go back to normal.  
  
Maybe time can exist to heal and a god can exist to give.  
  
And maybe things are only empty to be filled.  
  



End file.
